Meet John Doe (1941)

March 13, 1941

'Meet John Doe,' an Inspiring Lesson in Americanism, Opens at the Rivoli and Hollywood Theatres -- "The Roundup' and 'Mr. Dynamite' Also Here

By BOSLEY CROWTHER

Published: March 13, 1941

Call him Joe Doakes or George Spelvin or just the great American yap—he is still the backbone of this country and as sturdy a citizen as there is. You've seen him at the ball parks, on buses, at county fairs and political rallies from coast to coast. You've even caught glimpses of him—and seen him squarely, too—in films once and again. But now you will see him about as clearly as Hollywood has ever made him out in Frank Capra's and Robert Riskin's superlative "Meet John Doe," which had its local premièere last evening at the Rivoli and Hollywood Theatres—you and countless other John Does. For, in spite of a certain prolixity and an ending which is obviously a sop, this is by far the hardest-hitting and most trenchant picture on the theme of democracy that the Messrs. Capra and Riskin have yet made—and a glowing tribute to the anonymous citizen, too.

Actually, this is not our first introduction to John Doe. Mr. Capra has already presented him under the names of Longfellow Deeds and Jefferson Smith, the fellows, you remember, who went to town and to Washington, respectively. He is the honest and forthright fellow—confused, inconsistent but always sincere—who believes in the basic goodness of people and has the courage to fight hard for principles. When he went to town, he was fighting for a vague but comprehensible social ideal; in Washington, his adversaries were those who would use the United States Senate for corrupt and venal purposes.

But now, under the pseudonym of John Doe—John Willoughby is his real name—he finds himself confronted with a much more sinister and pertinent foe: the man—or, rather, the class—that would obtain dictatorial control by preying upon the democratic impulses and good-will of the people of the land. In substance, the Messrs. Capra and Riskin are hinting broadly at the way this country might conceivably fall into the hands of a ruthless tyrant. It could happen here, they say—if it were not for the American John Doe.

For their story is that of a young fellow, a genial and aimless tramp, who is hoaxed into playing the role of a cynical social firebrand for the sake of a newspaper stunt. At first he lolls in luxury while articles ag'in this and that are ghost-written for him and printed in the aggressive, unscrupulous sheet. Then, under the pleasantly romantic influence of his beautiful "ghost," he goes on the radio with a stirring and encouraging appeal to the "little man" for brotherly love and democratic good-will.

Immediately, and by virtue of his simple, sincere address, he becomes a national hero, the messiah for little people all around. John Doe Clubs are formed, a spontaneous "movement" gets under way. But then the guiding hand behind the whole set-up appears: the owner of the paper, a Napoleonic industrialist, indicates his intention of using the voting strength of the clubs to bludgeon his way into power. And, at this point, John Doe takes the bit in his teeth and gives courageous battle. The outcome is not resolved; in the end, John Doe is almost licked. But so, too, is his opponent, and an ideal has been preserved.

With an excellent script by Mr. Riskin—overwritten in many spots, it is true—Mr. Capra has produced a film which is eloquent with affection for gentle people, for the plain, unimpressive little people who want reassurance and faith. Many of his camera devices are magnificent in the scope of their suggestion, and always he tells his story well, with his customary expert spacing of comedy and serious drama. Only space prevents us from enthusing loudly about individual "touches."

And his cast is uniformly excellent. Gary Cooper, of course, is "John Doe" to the life and in the whole—shy, bewildered, non-aggressive, but a veritable tiger when aroused. Barbara Stanwyick plays the "ghost" and, incidentally, the dea ex machina with a proper brittleness, and Edward Arnold is, as usual, the diabolically disarming tycoon. In supporting roles James Gleason makes a forbiddingly hard-boiled managing editor whose finer instincts are revealed in a superb drunk scene; and Walter Brennan, Harry Holman and Regis Toomey are distinguished among a host of character bits.

John Doe may not be the most profound or incisive fellow in this cross-purposed world of ours today. But he has an inspiring message for all good Americans. And he is charming company. We most heartily suggest you make his acquaintance at once.